In Time
by metalanddust
Summary: Something mysteriously happens to Red and he goes back in time to be a younger version of himself again, leaving Liz struggling to cope with what happened. How will they deal with this? And how can Liz make sure its a secret just between them, when everyone demands him to be around as an informant on cases? Alternate Universe. Humor/angst/UST.
1. Chapter 1

Liz woke abruptly from a good night's sleep, wondering why she woke so quickly. It was Winter and she felt like all she wanted to do was stay in bed wrapped in the toasty sheets all month-long to keep warm from the cold. Then she heard her phone ringing and vibrating from where it was on the bedside table. Her heart surged as she looked at the illuminated digital numbers on her alarm clock. It was two a.m in the morning and she had to be up and ready for work in eight hours. She leaned over and picked up her phone, answering it.

The caller wasn't anyone she was expecting to hear from at this late hour.

"Lizzie?"

It was Red, and his voice was uncharacteristically urgent. Liz had never heard him sound so fearful before, so it must have been serious.

She twisted and sat up against her pillows, squinting. "Red?" she whispered tiredly. "What are you doing calling me at this hour?"

"I need your help. I'm sorry that I woke you, but there is really no one else to call. Plus, your number is literally the only one I have bothered to memorize."

She muffled a yawn with the back of her hand. "What's happened?"

"I need you to come pick me up. I'm stuck down in a parking garage, no clothes, absolutely confused and freezing."

Now Liz was wide awake and confused. "Your what?"

"Once you get here, I'll explain everything as much as I can. It's fifteen degrees below zero, and, as you can probably imagine, without any clothes on..." He didn't need to expand on that.

"- Yeah, I get it. I'm coming. I'll bring you some of... Tom's old clothes that you can wear."

He explained where he was as she jumped out of bed and threw on yesterday's clothes before raiding the closet and pulling out a pair of Tom's old jeans, a shirt, and one of his leather jackets. She was relieved she hadn't bothered to toss his belongings out because they were definitely going to be coming in handy now. She knew they probably wouldn't have fit Red, or would have been up to his standards in clothing, but... what other choice did she have? He was apparently naked. He needed clothes. It was his fault if he didn't like the ones that she was bringing him to wear.

Liz pulled on her plum-colored, padded Winter's coat, some gloves, and flew out the door to start the car. The ground was slick and wet, and sheets of snow covered it two inches on the cement. Her heart clenched in pity as she wondered how Red was faring without any clothes on in this horrible, arctic weather they were having.

She had no idea what Red was going through, but ending up naked and confused in a parking garage... The entire situation was strange.

She pulled out of the driveway slowly and turned on the heater in the car to warm it up for him in advance. Through the glare of the headlights, the streets were white and obscured with snow but she managed to find her way without too much trouble. Everywhere she looked through the condensation rolling down the windows, the streets looked deserted and strangely empty at this hour. As she reached the garage where Red said he was, she halted the car and quickly redialed the number from the payphone he had used to call her from.

It took him only a second to answer. "Lizzie, are you here yet?" Just hearing his strained voice, she knew how cold he was and it made her feel freezing in turn. She could hear his teeth chattering on the other line, his quivering intake of breath.

"Yeah, I'm here. I'm outside the parking garage. Whereabouts are you?"

"There is a payphone inside right near the entrance." There was a significant pause, where Red sniffled loudly. His voice sounded odd to her, nasally from the cold. "Thank you for this. You're all I have."

"Don't mention it. I'm coming through now."

She hung up and cruised slowly into the garage, looking around. She found the payphone to the left of the area, the phone swaying from the cord back and forth, and she reached behind her to grab the clothes of Tom's that she had retrieved for him. The garage was virtually empty, aside from a few cars here and there. At first, she couldn't see Reddington anywhere. He wasn't hanging around near the payphone. She peered through the fogged windscreen and felt her heart pounding in her chest. He was... nowhere to be seen.

Someone jumped into view out of the corner of her eye and she startled when the door to the passenger's side was jerked open. She caught a flash of pale, naked skin as he scrambled into the passenger's seat of her car, and her heart surged with relief. He closed the door on himself and she caught the movement out of the corner of her eye as he rubbed his hands together, cupped them, and blew on them loudly for some warmth as he shivered violently in the seat.

"Thank God," she breathed, thrusting the clothes at him blindly. "I thought for a moment there that I wouldn't be able to find you. What happened to you?"

"That's a _very_ good question. I've been stuck freezing my ass off here for the past twenty-five minutes," he complained, his breathing labored. "I can't even feel my toes or my fingers. I have _no idea_ in the world what happened to me or how it is that I came to be here."

Liz made sure she kept her eyes forward as Red struggled to pull the clothes of Tom's she had given him on in the seat. It was only when she saw out of the corner of her eye that he was dressed completely and no flash of skin was in sight that she dared to look at him. What she saw had her stunned and speechless.

Here, was Raymond Reddington, except not the one she knew and saw almost every day. He was fresh-faced, young, with light brown hair and stubble around his chin. His face was thinner. His cheeks were flushed and pink from the cold, and his green eyes appeared more striking up close. He was Red, but only a much younger version of himself. Probably a Red in his early thirties, Liz estimated. Tom's clothes fit him perfectly and because of the new age, they suited him well. She must have looked at him strangely, because he suddenly looked around the front of the car, glancing around them in the near empty parking garage, paranoid that someone bad was waiting in the shadows.

He met her eyes, raised his eyebrows at her and she saw the left side of his mouth twitch. At least although younger in appearance, he still had those mannerisms the Raymond Reddington she was used to had. "What is it?" His voice was milder, less deep. Young.

Liz could hardly believe this was the same man she met with daily, in different locations, where he informed her of their next targets on the Blacklist. This was the same man who had grown up to be one of the world's most wanted criminals, the Concierge of Crime. The last time she had met with him, he was playing chess contentedly with Dembe. Seeing how young and respectable he looked in appearance now, it was hard to come to terms with that this same person would grow up to be an arrest-on-sight fugitive.

"Have you seen yourself recently?" Liz asked, her voice shaking.

"No. Why? What do you mean?"

"God, what is this?" She laughed out loud. "You really don't know?"

"Know what, Lizzie?" He shot back at her in irritation. It became clear to her that he really didn't know or understand anything.

Liz felt as if it was a strange dream, one she wasn't sure she believed was real. Reaching up, she grabbed hold of the rear view mirror between their seats and pushed it in his direction. "Is this a joke?"

Still trembling from the cold, Red leaned up to peer at his reflection in the mirror. His loud intake of breath and the outburst of shock and surprise that he made was telling enough that he had no idea of what was happening himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm so sorry I took ages to update. Promise I won't take that long again.**

**Hope you enjoy this one, and young Red and Lizzie. As for what Red looks like in my mind, he's James Spader in Supernova lol. Like that. But that isn't to say I love how he is in the show, or James Spader. He is a very attractive man, young or in his fifties. This is just for fun, silly as it may be. There will be some humor, some angst, and some sexual tension. I don't know if it's too ridiculous! Oh, and I own nothing. **

* * *

**Chapter Two**

"Okay," Liz whispered unevenly. She had a completely irresponsible urge to laugh hysterically at the entire situation they had found themselves in. The whole thing, it was unbelievable. "Okay. So there, uh, there has to be a logical explanation for this, right?"

"Like what?"

"Oh, God. I don't know." She shook her head helplessly, glancing over at him quickly. "_You're_ supposed to be the one with all the answers. Why don't_ you_ tell me?"

"I don't even have any logical explanation for_ this_. I don't even know what the hell _this_ is!"

Red was still staring at himself in the review mirror; Wide-eyed, trembling a little. Then he used his fingers to rub his eyes and then he squinted up at himself in the mirror again, probably hoping if he looked hard and long enough, he'd revert back into his usual self again. It wasn't working.

Liz was finding it difficult not to stare at him herself; This was, obviously, the very last thing she was expecting to happen in agreeing to come pick him up. She had vaguely suspected he had gone out on a drug binge, like he had told her one time, and had found himself alone and disoriented while naked in a parking garage. She sure as hell wasn't expecting him to bizarrely turn into a younger version of himself. _What could have made this happen?_ Liz wondered, freaking out. _How does a person just magically turn years younger again?_ What was he going to do? He couldn't come into the Post Office, obviously. No, the least who knew about this, the better.

"Did you do anything different tonight?" she asked, as calmly as she could. "Did you meet some strange person? Maybe you met a witch? Maybe someone put a curse or some kind of spell on you? Not that I'm implying that they _actually_ exist, but this... this is crazy. Did you drink anything, like a... a special potion or something? Did anything seem out of the ordinary tonight?"

Red just turned from staring at his youthful reflection in the mirror to give her a look that showed white all around the green of his eyes. He was terrified. Actually flipping out. Liz realized that Raymond Reddington was scared shitless. He didn't know what was happening himself, and for once he was struggling to maintain that calm and breezy air the other Reddington she knew always had.

But then again, Liz figured this was not something you could easily be calm about.

"Slap me, Lizzie," Red said suddenly; The words falling out of his mouth like a desperate plea.

"What? Red, I'm not slapping you! No way!"

"This is a dream, surely," he said, as if trying hard to convince himself of that. He blinked at her heavily, his chest heaving. "No, a nightmare. Slap me hard enough so that I'll wake up!"

"Unfortunately I don't think this is a dream, or a nightmare," Liz pointed out weakly, trying to be the responsible one for once. Clearly Red was far too gone and panicking, which was understandable. If this was happening to her, she would have been panicking too. "Otherwise we're both experiencing the same dream. I don't think that's it, Red."

"Just hit me, slap me, I don't care. I just need to wake up!"

_Okay. So he really was freaking out about this..._

Since he had asked her so politely and she couldn't help but feel sorry for him, Liz slid the glove off her right hand and used all her strength to slap him across his cheek, extra hard. It didn't feel too good for her to have to do that to him, and she felt immediately bad about it the instance the heel of her hand connected with his cheek. But he had insisted, and that was what he wanted her to do.

"Ouch!"

She stared at him with bated breath afterwards, almost expecting him to turn into the middle-aged Raymond Reddington she knew and had grown fond of over the months. Sadly, nothing happened. Red just scrunched his face up in pain, pressing a hand against the place where she had slapped him like a hurt little boy, his eyes tightly squeezed shut.

"Anything?" He murmured hopefully, almost inaudibly to the point where she struggled to hear him properly.

"Nothing, I'm sorry," she admitted glumly. "Nothing has changed. You're still..._ you_. The _young_ you, I mean."

"Oh, fantastic," he grumbled miserably. "This is just... fantastic. Now what are we gonna do?"

That was the tricky question. "Well, now that we've established that slapping you didn't help and that this isn't a dream or a nightmare, I guess there isn't much we can do," Liz said reasonably. "I think you should come home with me, though. Obviously we can't tell anyone about this, or let anyone know. I don't think they'd believe us anyway. It's too... inconceivable. Unless there is something else you have in mind?"

She stared at him as he opened his eyes and looked at her, and as the weight of the entire unbelievable situation fell upon her again, she couldn't remember how to breathe. This was just too crazy. There was no way to process this. It was just too much. Everything was too overwhelming. How could she not possibly panic over something like this?

She needed fresh air. And she needed it quickly.

"I need a minute," she said desperately, and she yanked open her door, stepping outside into the garage, everything spinning. It seemed as if the world around her was spinning. There was just no rhyme or reason for this, not any she could think plausible. Her knees threatened to buckle from under her weight, and she pressed her back against the side of her car, covering her face in her hands. "Why is this happening?" she spoke out loud to herself through splayed fingers, her voice unsteady. "What is the meaning of this? I don't understand this. _Any_ of it!"

She felt like she was going to faint. Her ears began to ring, and she put her hands on her knees, dipping her head down. _Why was Reddington now twenty years younger?_ If only this _was_ a dream, because there was nothing about it that made logical sense to her! The FBI Agent in her searched for any reasons why, but there was... nothing. Absolutely nothing that explained this.

She heard the passengers door open and then she heard Red approaching her. When she reopened her eyes to look up at him, she almost forgot and shrieked when he knelt beside her on the pavement. _God, he was so... young._ So unlike the Reddington she had grown used to. Apparently he had calmed down from his own panic attack, because now he looked completely subdued and accepting of what had happened to him. If only it were that easy for her to come to grips with... _How was she possibly meant to process this?_

"Take a breath," he advised her quietly. "Take in a few deep breaths and know that everything is going to be just fine, Lizzie."

How ironic was it that he was telling _her_ that? But along with those words of comfort, she had no doubts in her mind left that this was definitely the same old Red Reddington she was used to. He was just... younger on outer appearance, but inside- his brain- he was still very much the same Reddington. If she scrutinized him carefully enough, she could see the mature, older Red she knew in him.

"How are you not flipping out over this?" she asked him incredulously.

He shrugged and looked away from her for a moment, gnawing on the inside of his lip. "I've assessed the situation. Things really could be worse than they are now. I'm twenty-three years younger than I was just yesterday." He turned his eyes on her again, and those eyes fortunately were ones she recognized. Intelligent and observant, just like the rest of him. "Besides, this is gonna be fun. I figure I might as well make the most of it while I have the chance. Who hasn't once dreamed of being young again?"

His way of looking at things, so reasonably and calmly, never ceased to amaze her. After the initial shock died out of her system, she finally stood while breathing deeply.

"Let's go," she said, turning back to open the door. "I'm beat. It's three a.m and I have to work in the morning."

Once they were in the car and Liz got out of the garage, Red turned to her. "Do you mind calling into a store near here?"

"Why's that?"

"Because I feel an incredibly nagging need for a cigarette."

"You smoke cigarettes?" she asked him in surprise. "Personally, I thought you were more of a cigar-smoking kind of man?"

"That only started when I was in my forties. This brilliant man from Cuba introduced me to the beauty of cigars and I never looked back. Smoking cigarettes is so infantile, I realized," he explained quickly. "But now I need a cigarette. They always helped in stressful situations and, correct me if I'm wrong but this is stressful, yes?"

"Um, yeah," Liz agreed slowly. There was a 24-hour convenience store open across the street this late of the night, and she pulled over on the curb, watching him as he got out of the car and ran across the road, hands tucked in her ex-husband's leather jacket pockets.

God, he was old enough to be her husband right now. Well, he appeared roughly about the age Tom was, give or take a couple of years. She could have easily told strangers that he was her husband, made up some story, and they wouldn't have blinked twice. _And she quickly closed the door on that thought..._

What was she doing, really? Why did she even bother to acknowledge that fact? Younger and boyish as he may be now, he was still Raymond Reddington, fugitive and her working partner. He would still be just as irritating and a know-it-all, because he was still that man underneath all that young skin.

Right now, he was that same older man in his younger selves body...

Just because something mysteriously happened and now he was younger, that didn't change anything. She craned her head and watched as Red spoke to the owner of the store and he was grinning. Hopefully he wasn't explaining anything about what had happened, but _damn it_, if she didn't notice he was quite adorable-looking.

She quickly turned and looked forward through the foggy windshield as Red opened the door and climbed in, rubbing his hands together again for some warm friction. Deciding he was warm enough in her car with the heater on, he pulled a carton of cigarettes out, pulled the plastic wrapping off, and slipped a cigarette between his lips.

"Thank God for nicotine," he breathed in relief, leaning his head back against the headrest lazily, flicking a lighter and holding the flame near the end.

"Um, what the- what do you think you're doing?" Liz asked in outrage.

He turned to glance at her, eyebrows raised, flame dangerously close to the end of the cigarette. "What?" he dared to ask her, cigarette bobbing up and down with his lips movement.

"In what world would I think it's okay for someone to smoke around me? Need I remind you that my father died of lung cancer?"

"Oh, of course." Immediately he let the flame flicker out, and he tore the unlit cigarette from his lips. "Forgive me, Lizzie. Shall I go stand outside?" It was bizarre; A young man speaking so politely. But then she had to remind herself that somewhere inside, _deep down_ inside, was a fifty-something year old.

"Wait until we get to the house, please," she muttered, tightening her hands on the steering wheel, and if she sounded annoyed to him, that was because she most definitely was.

"Of course."

**Hope you enjoyed this one? Is this too silly? Too out of character, even? Please let me know your thoughts, I'd love to know what you think! Thanks a bunch :)**


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